So, when I was 6 or 7 we had Christmas with the extended family. One of my uncle's was there, and I was always a bit afraid of him because he had done some time for a d**g charge and just gotten out within the last year or two.
Anyway, I walk into the kitchen at one point, and he is there with this giant wedge of cheese. He looks up and asks if I wanted any. I nod, because I f*****g loved cheese. He says "ok, but you cannot tell your parents because you'll ruin your dinner they will get mad at me" and he slices me a few pieces. We eat in silence and then I leave, convinced that I was an accomplice in some terrible act with my ex-con uncle. To this day, I have never told my parents.
As to what would happen if they found out, well, then they would know that the reason I didn't eat that one Christmas dinner in the early 90s was because I had already filled up on expensive cheese.